


Empress Amidala

by NotJasonTodd



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dark padme, F/M, Lots of Angst, Sith Padmé, i just really needed to write this guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24194929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotJasonTodd/pseuds/NotJasonTodd
Summary: There is a serious lack of dark padme and sith padme so here I am to give it to you. Padme Amidala deserves better so she's coming back from the grave to get revenge on her shitty husband who left her to die
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

_Vader twitched, his eyes moving rapidly under his lids. He could sense a disturbance in the force, like something unseen closing the distance. He couldn’t shake the paranoia, which was unusual. Usually his mind was clear, not fogged down by memories. He saved his reflection for meditation. Whatever it had been, it had shaken him deeply. Darth Sidious had departed before daybreak, and Vader wondered if his master had felt the disturbance as well. For all he knew, it was probably his new master’s own doing._

_It was annoying, to be kept out of Sidious’s plans, Vader had at least thought if he proved himself reliable, he would be trusted enough to be a part of whatever was being planned. It felt similar to being left out of the decisions made by the Jedi Counsel. He was annoyed, to say the least._

_That morning, as Vader awoke, he had felt the first in a series of three blows; which felt almost like a psychic attack. He couldn’t brace himself against a familiar pain, before realizing the source was not coming from him. The feeling felt like a blast of warm air, as if from the gardens of Naboo, a familiar breeze tickling past his face. As he recoiled, blinking inside the darkness of his helmet, he realized there was no sensation of a breeze. At first, he thought it could have just been his imagination, a memory from a lifetime ago. He decided a few hours of meditation would do him well, and proceeded to make his way upstairs._

_The second wave hit as he was making him way up to the meditation chamber. As he was climbing the cool steps he could hear a voice clear as day scream out. He doubled over, as if in pain. There was no doubt a familiar nagging sense to the scream, but Vader was focused on the emotion behind the voice. It sounded gut-wrenching, not the sound you made when you were hurt. No, that was the type of scream made when you have lost everything. It was the type of scream you make after the world had been pulled out from under you. He darted upward, hoping to find the meditation chamber clear._

_The third wave hit as he started to settle his mind. As he sat in the meditation chamber, he tried to pinpoint the location of the cries. As his focus honed down, another piercing cry came rippling through. Vader recognized this one, clear as day. It was Padme. The slight tremble in her voice brought back the vivid memories he had tried to suppress for so long._

_She was screaming, like in a way he had never heard before. Something he could only have dreamed up in his nightmares. He tried to focus his mind again, against the onslaught of emotions and questions. Where was she coming from? Was it really her? What was happening to her? It was dark in his vision, behind the lenses of his mask. He couldn’t make out much in the darkness. As he tried to concentrate, he could make out the ripples in the force. It couldn’t just be a memory, he could feel her energy almost electrifying. Again, Vader could see nothing in his vision. Where was she?_

_As Vader focused, he could hear a loud banging._

Padme gasped for fresh air, against the damp musty oxygen in her catacomb. Her lungs were fire, spitting out the death from the inside of her half-rotted stomach. As she coughed the putrid bile, she let out a scream into the darkness. She couldn’t think of anything. A few inches from her nose was rock, and she knew no one would be able to hear her scream. She reached her fists upward, punching upward into the rock above over and over again. She didn’t know how long she had been awake for, or where she was. She could feel a dull ache in her wrists as she pounded against the lid of her coffin. 

After a few minutes, she could feel herself sinking back into unconsciousness from the lack of oxygen. Her grip loosened, and she could feel something slip from her hand. As she struggled against the darkness in her vision closing in, she traced the square object in her finger. It was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Ani,” Her voice was horse, and it felt like her vocal chords were rubbing against sand. How long had she been here? Where was she? As she couched again, she tried to calm her breathing and focus her thoughts. He memory pushed at her, wanting to be acknowledged.

As light flooded in from above, Padme started coughing heavier. The lid to her coffin slid aside with ease, and a cascade of dust whirled through the air. She sat upward with relative ease, coughing and covering her eyes against the bright sunlight. How long had she been there? As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a small hooded figure hunched over beside her coffin. A slight hint of recognition crossed her face, before she doubled over into a coughing fit again.

“Here, please drink some water,” The Emperor stood, waving over his shoulder. Padme didn’t see, she was too busy coughing. As she looked down, she could still see she was clutching a small pendant in her hand. Her memory tugged at the back of her mind again. The name Ani had come from her lips so suddenly, she didn’t know what it meant.

The Emperor walked to Padme, goblet in hand. He seemed unfazed by the sudden resurrection, and handed Padme the glass reassuringly. She watched his movements, trying to discern if he was a threat to her. She tried to be discreet and sip the water, but she couldn’t help letting a small amount dribble down her face. It had felt like _years_.

“I certainly am glad to have you back,” Palpatine paused before crossing his arms behind his back. “Our dear friend, Skywalker, was quite troubled to hear of your passing.”

As soon as the name left his lips, Padme felt an electric shock go through her body. Suddenly, in an instant, she _remembered everything_. She blinked a few times, trying to understand. There was no logical understandable way to rationalize this, so she kept staring at Palpatine, dumbstruck, goblet still clutched in her hand.

“It seems he has taken it upon himself to avenge your death,” The Sith Lord turned his back, he knew Padme was not stupid. He knew if he played his cards right, he would get exactly what he wanted from her. “In fact, his premonitions of your death turned out to be true.”

Padme didn’t respond, partly because she didn’t know if her voice would work at all. She looked a ragged mess, with her curled hair wild and sticking out from all directions. Her chin and throat were covered in a black bile, most likely blood rejected from her stomach. She felt crazed, still blinking against the bright sunlight inside the mausoleum. Her knuckles were broken and bloody from trying to force the coffin open, and blood was dripping from both her ears.

“I am here on his behalf,” Palpatine lied, turning to face Padme. “You see, he feels responsible for the fate of his family.”

Padme blinked, trying to remember. In the brief flashes of her memory, she could recognize Anakin’s face, blinded by rage. She could remember the feeling of being choked, from several feet away. And the look in his eyes, like he was ready to destroy anything in his path. That wasn’t the Anakin she remembered. She hesitated, trying to find her voice against the dust coating her lungs. “Family?”

“Yes, well, you see…” Palpatine took a seat back where he was when she had first emerged from her tomb. “In his anger, it seems, Vader eliminated the twins.”

Padme cocked her head to the side, eyes wide on Palpatine. _He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He doesn’t even know where the twins are._ As she fought against her memory, she searched for anything which might prove Palpatine was lying. She could hardly understand what was happening, let alone this new information being presented to her. A few minutes passed before she spoke again.

“Anakin,” She spoke, her voice still gravelly and hoarse, “Killed the twins.”

She said it more as a statement, not as a question. As if testing the words in her mouth, to see how they felt. Flashes of Anakin’s face were playing over and over in her memory, daring her to be wrong. She couldn’t stop seeing that last face though, the Anakin who had stolen everything from her. The yellow-eyed Anakin. What had Palpatine called him?

“Vader killed my twins,” She said more resolutely, looking back to Palpatine. He nodded his head solemnly, trying to convey sincerity. Padme wasn’t an idiot, she never had trusted the Chancellor. But as of the moment, she wasn’t in a place to doubt him. She lifted a bloody hand to her face, pushing a piece of hair away from her forehead. She didn’t notice her mangled hand, not even the pulsating pain radiating up her arms, or the blood streaked now across her face.

“His actions were not condoned by myself,” Palpatine offered, as if that was an apology. “And I have a fear myself.”

Padme looked at him, waiting. The real reason she was here, the real reason she had been woken up and brought back into this nightmare. Palpatine sighed, “I am afraid you are the only person he may listen to. I need you to be at my side, to show him the _right way._ ”

“He will not listen to me,” She looked back down, at the pendant still in her hand. She rolled it over a few times, before wriggling her knees and feet. As she spoke, she stretched her muscles over her joints, feeling the pull of the tendons, “Vader has no humanity left. If he has truly killed my twins I fear nothing I can say will stop him.”

“Oh, he will listen,” Palpatine stood up again, walking to her casket and offering her a hand. “You outrank him now, Empress.”

As Padme took his hand and lifted herself out of the coffin, she bit her lower lip hesitantly. She didn’t remember Palpatine being an _Emperor_ before. This truly was the hell Anakin had created. This was all his doing, all her hard work for democracy, gone. All her hard work for hope and normalcy, destroyed. Everything she had worked for, even the lives she had created and the man she loved, were destroyed by _Vader_.

She glanced to Palpatine, clutching her hand in his. He didn’t look like an Emperor, just a feeble old man. Padme had never understood the misplaced trust Anakin had placed in him. There had always been something dark inside, Padme had sensed it. She paused, catching her footing on the ground. A fall breeze had swept dried leaves into her mausoleum, and they crunched under her footsteps.

“Remind me if I am wrong, Emperor,” Padme asked, her voice flat. For years she had trained as Queen to not betray any emotion, and now it seemed very helpful. “But you have been grooming Vader to replace you, are you not?”

Palpatine guided her outside, into the bright sunlight. As she took a step, she could feel the sun hit her cold skin, warming her bones. Palpatine pressed his lips together, “That is correct.”

“Then, if I outrank him, I would like to be placed as second in command to you alone.” She paused, denying every fiber in her being which had fought a lifetime for democracy. “Vader will not ascend without my approval. I trust that can be arranged.”

“Why else would you be here?” The Emperor laughed, sending a chill down Padme’s spine. “Vader will be under _our_ command. He will take control eventually, but he training is not complete yet.”

Padme paused, remembering how it felt as a Senator to have her own personal Jedi. It’s not that she had used Anakin, she had loved him. But she had to admit, his power opened doors which would have otherwise stayed closed.

Padme didn’t smile, she grimaced under the harsh outside light. Suddenly, even under the sun, she felt very cold. She spoke coldly, “He will be disciplined for the actions he has taken, I trust.”

Palpatine nodded silently, “If you wish, Empress, I would permit you to oversee that particular matter.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been using this dark padme playlist for vibes if anyone wants to listen 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/44UjKjn8fL8W7Hvk0HC1H2?si=38DBt4MZTmuYGLPCnYPOBg

The transition from Queen to Senator was a difficult one, Padme could remember. Not only were her royal titles stripped, but she felt almost like she had been demoted. She was devoted to Naboo, and would have done anything to further her dream of democracy, it’s not to say that being a Senator wasn’t rewarding. She loved the ability to change the Republic from the inside, as a voice of reason and nonviolence.

It was the respect. When Padme Amidala was fourteen, and Queen, she had undying loyalty and respect, even from the Jedi. As a Senator, she felt like a soldier just like everyone else. As Queen, she was limitless in her power. At fourteen, she knew limitless power would lead to nothing good. And here she was again, with the _burden_ of power. She felt she could try to make a difference here, maybe foil some of Palpatine’s new plans. She knew that was pathetic justification in her mind, the power always would be intoxicating. She was only here for one purpose, to get revenge.

The white face makeup wasn’t new. In fact, she had purposely stolen her previous ‘Queen attire’, complete with her signature lipstick but in black. Her hair was huge, just as she remembered, styled in an ornate bun over the sides of her head. She wasn’t sure why Palpatine was able to shower her in gifts to remind her of home, perhaps to make her feel more comfortable as Empress. He knew she was used to her role before, and would be a perfect fit.

Padme had felt disgusted, wearing this costume as a reflection of the new Empire. But, she had to admit, she was slightly relieved. The white makeup covered the bruises on her neck she tried daily to hide. They were a constant reminder of this nightmare she was in, the nightmare of their own doing. It was her new disguise, like everyone who had survived like cockroaches around her. From Anakin Skywalker to Darth Vader and now Padme to Empress Amidala. It almost didn’t matter what she thought, she was a pawn for Palpatine at this point anyway.

When her anger started to bubble, in ways it never had before, her mind drifted to Vader. Her Empress duties overshadowed the revenge she had hoped to get. Palpatine was more concerned with her sitting by his side, rather than saber-training like he had promised. In her dreams, she had complete control over Darth Vader, despite her lack of training. Since she awoke in that crypt, her mind was fixed on the ways she could torture and break him, to make him _bleed for what he had done._

As she stood by Palpatine’s side, her mind wandered slightly. She didn’t feel like an Empress, she felt like his slave. Her eyes drifted back to the clone standing in front of them, she recognized him slightly. Then again, she recognized all the clones, didn’t she? Her mind hadn’t been the clearest since she had awoken.

She first noticed it when spying on Palpatine one night soon after her resurrection. She could remember hearing a tidbit of something interesting, and the word _Jedi_ came from his lips. As she started to race away, her mind went to Anakin. She ran, trying to think of a way to warn him of Palpatine’s plans. After running outside, and several clones following her, she blinked a few times and stopped. She remembered who she was, and who Anakin was. One of the cones tapped her on the shoulder and she completely forgot what happened. _Why was I spying on Palpatine? There is nothing I can do now, anyway._ The clone said nothing, and guided her back inside to rest.

It had happened more than once now, where she had woken up in a frenzy or gotten herself into a panic and completely forgotten where she was, _who she was now_. She wondered if all the survivors felt like that, or if she was the only sane one left. Was she even sane anymore? She came back from the dead, there was no way she was the rational one here. No one still standing was sane.

Palpatine snapped his fingers, bringing the Empress from her memories. He spoke suddenly, with excitement in his voice. “That’s good, tell him finding the rogue Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, is of the highest priority.”

The Empress’s heart raced in her chest, Ahsoka was alive? Others had to be alive then, there _must_ be hope left. The clone nodded, “Should I bring him in?”

Empress Amidala was too distracted by her thoughts again to notice the two men were glancing at her, hesitantly. If Ahsoka was alive, did that mean her squad hadn’t executed Order 66? How was she able to avoid that? Where had she hidden, that wasn’t under the Empire’s control?

“Bring him in,” Palpatine nodded to the door, “This will be interesting.”

As the door lifted, revealing the dark, looming figure in the doorway, the hair on Padme’s arms raised. The electricity in the room was crackling suddenly, and it couldn’t just be the two of them who felt it. The Emperor stood, directly blocking Padme from moving forward, despite his small frame.

“Darth Vader,” Palpatine seemed to grow darker, even his voice changed. Padme tried to rationalize what was happening with no avail, her eyes were locked on the masked and hooded figure entering the room.

She could feel herself barring her teeth behind the Emperor. With hatred, she muttered, “ _You._ ”

Darth Vader stopped moving and looked directly at her. The venom dripping from her voice was new, and he didn’t think he had heard anything like that from her before. She looked like a goddess, he had to admit. Her hair was even and haloing both sides of her head, with a large pendant on her forehead. Palpatine had gifted her a large gemstone, with sat perched above the center of her eyes. For a moment, Vader wondered what her face would have looked like if he had given her such an exquisite gift.

Her dress was very similar to the one he could recognize from years ago, except the colors were darker. She looked beautiful, behind her anger. She was perfect for the role, perfect to rule as Empress. He was almost surprised at seeing her for the first time, he wasn’t overcome with any emotion except happiness. She was safe, and alive. She looked beautiful, and Vader could do nothing but stare.

“That wasn’t very polite, _Empress._ ” Palpatine turned to shoot her a glance, _Remember your place._

Darth Vader stiffened, watching the exchange. He walked forward, trying to avoid the Empress’s poisonous gaze.

“The elimination of one, Ahsoka Tano, is of the extreme importance,” Palpatine addressed his student. “This will be a test of your loyalty, I’ll admit. I wouldn’t want you to start thinking I’ve become weak to your former acquaintances.”

The Empress bit the inside of her cheek, realization across her face. This was never about her training, this was about Palpatine’s power. She could feel the anger bubbling up inside. This was all about _controlling Vader_ , and not about her strength over him. She could feel the taste of pennies in her mouth and she bit down harder, trying to focus on anything but her rage.

Darth Vader paused, consumed by the emotion in the room. Padme was so loud, he could feel her anger from across the floor. He had never felt so much raw emotion before, at least not from Padme. Vader glanced to Palpatine, he must’ve been able to feel it too. “As you wish, Master.”

The Empress pursed her lips, mind racing. She tried to compose herself as best she could before speaking again, “Emperor Palpatine, a word?”

The Emperor flashed a glance to Vader, and quickly the clones and Vader exited. As Padme watched the door, she waited until it fully shut before she brought her fists down onto the table with full force. The table splintered, and she could feel cracks radiating from her knuckles through the wood, “How _dare_ you.”

The Emperor cocked his head, annoyed as he walked around the table, away from hitting distance. “How dare I what, Empress? Use your words.”

“How dare you use me as _bait_ for _that monster_ to play fetch!” She couldn’t contain her rage, and instead let it all come spilling out. She crossed her arms over her chest and began pacing behind the desk. “How dare you use me as a prop, while you try to control _that thing_ you’ve created! I am not here to be his _fucking mascot_!”

Padme started breathing heavily as she crossed back and forth, the corset was too tight. She waved a hand in the air, toward the Emperor, “And you haven’t trained me _at all_. You told me I was here to control him, to _punish him for what he did_. You have not trained me, you have been using me as a puppet.”

At this point, Vader was almost ready to walk back through the door, and the Emperor could feel it.

Padme was tired, exhausted from yelling. It wasn’t going to do any good anyway, she wasn’t in a place to demand much better. For all she knew, Darth Vader would be back any minute to have her head just for disrespecting the Emperor. She sat down in the chair the Emperor had previously been in, and wiped her chin. She hadn’t realized, but the blood from her cheek had dripped down her lips as she was yelling.

The Emperor watched her and waited, until he could feel Vader’s presence behind the door diminish. As he walked back to Padme, his heart softened slightly. She had the power behind her words, and the rage. He still wasn’t quite sure of all the reasons he had brought her back, but he knew her presence was something he had missed. Padme was as much his student as Anakin was, but in the ways of politics. Sure, she dismissed most of what he believed in order to preach nonviolence, but this new Padme he liked. This new Padme had raw, explosive, power.

“You are right, my dear Empress,” He laid a hand on her shoulder as he stood behind her. “I have not trained you, and I did promise you _real_ power, didn’t I?”

Padme glanced up, suspicion in her eyes.

“Your training will begin tomorrow morning, be ready to leave at dawn.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the months that followed, Darth Vader could think of nothing but Padme. Every chance he got with the Emperor, he would ask question after question until Darth Sidious wore out and gave him a small tidbit of knowledge. After three months, all he had learned was that Padme was in fact, still alive, and in training to become a better “empress”. Vader didn’t quite know what that meant, and he didn’t fully trust that his master wasn’t secretly torturing Padme behind his back. He could hardly sleep anymore, and laid awake at night wondering if he could find her. If she screamed loud enough, he would hear. But night after night, he could sense nothing from her.

Even after what she had said to Palpatine during their last meeting, Vader hadn’t been upset. Padme’s words stung, deep down. In a way, she was right. He was a _monster,_ but not created by Palpatine, by the _Jedi_. She was misunderstood, and Vader wished more than anything he could have a moment alone with her. He didn’t know what he would say, how to explain _who_ he was now, _what he was now_. Would she ever forgive him? Could she?

More than anything, he wanted to ask about the child. He supposed he shouldn’t though, it wouldn’t lead to anything good. Darth Vader wasn’t that child’s father, Darth Vader _killed_ that child’s father. He had a beautiful imagination during the Clone Wars, of holding that child in his arms with Padme at his side, and with Obi-Wan and Ashoka being supportive. No Jedi Order, no Separatists, no Imperial army. Just the people he loved and wanted to protect.

_Past-tense_ , he reminded himself. Those people were all gone now, and there was no redemption for the survivors.

As his tele-communicator beeped, Vader tore his gaze from the window and walked back to answer.

“Lord Vader,” The Emperor appeared, awash in a blue glow from the hologram. “I have sent a surprise gift for you. She vows revenge on you, for killing her two children. Try not to kill her, she has been trained by Maul and I would like to receive her, _alive._ ”

Darth Vader cocked his head to the side quizzically, “I do not recall this particular killing.”

“You don’t need to,” Darth Sidious answered, “I’m sure she will jog your memory.”

“What game are you playing at?” Vader turned his head, angrily. He felt like he was being toyed with.

The Emperor smiled, and the communication was lost. Suddenly Vader was alone again, surrounded by the darkness in his castle on Mustafar. He turned quickly, and flew down the spiral staircase down to the lower levels.

As he crashed down to the lowest platform, he signaled the droids to fall back. What type of assassin would dare to hit Vader’s own planet? He figured the only trouble would be taking the assassin in alive, they usually loved to talk. He loaded his blaster with stun rounds before opening the front doors, into the heat of Mustafar.

In the shadows from the flames and lava, Vader could make out a figure standing in silhouette. The woman didn’t look menacing, from what he could see. She was short, and slender, wearing head to toe wrappings. It was almost like she had been wrapped like a mummy until her face. Over the wrapping, the woman wore a loose fitting, light colored tunic. However, over her face, she wore the traditional male Dathomirian face-tattoos (or face paint, he couldn’t tell from his distance). The whole thing made no sense to him, why would a human woman emulate a Dathomirian? She had some pretty big balls, to show up on Vader’s doorstep ready to fight, with male Dathomirian face paint on. Killing her would have been easy, it was the ‘capture alive’ part he didn’t like.

The woman walked inside, and her heeled footsteps echoed off the barren walls of the castle. As she locked eyes on Vader, she lifted what looked like a saber upward. Vader moved forward, to the center of the room. The woman waited, watching his every move. From the makeup, Vader couldn’t recognize her. But the familiar air of authority gave him pause. Something told him to respect that authority, not to get on this woman’s bad side.

“You’ve come all the way here,” Vader breathed loudly, cape swirling behind him. He could feel the Mustafar heat through the open door. The woman must’ve been hot, but she didn’t show it. “You’ve come to kill me.”

The assassin unsheathed her weapon, twisting her hand to the left. From both ends of the saber, the deadly red light was unleashed. Vader paused, remembering Maul using the same lightsaber for his duel with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. The words from Palpatine echoed in his mind, that the woman was trained by Maul. Why would Maul train an apprentice? An apprentice just to kill Vader?

“You remind me of someone,” Vader paused, as he also unsheathed his saber. The woman lunged, sloppily down toward his ankles. Vader easily deflected, bringing her saber up to his eyes. He paused, “It really is quite a remarkable weapon.”

The woman groaned and shoved Vader back, sending a spray of electrical sparks around. She twirled the weapon in her hand, getting her feel for its weight. It was still new, unusual to fight with such a weapon. But, _the only way to defeat is a Sith is to become one of them_. Darth Maul’s words echoed in the back of her mind. Her Master’s teachings. During her training, Darth Maul had taught the former Senator several new tricks. Although she hadn’t mastered use of the force just yet, she excelled at saber-combat. As Queen, she was trained in fencing, so this came naturally. _Use your rage!_

She could hear him yell in the back of her mind, she had faced worse opponents than this. Maul wouldn’t hesitate to scar her or slice an appendage off, as a trophy. His way of training was brutal, but effective. In only a few months, Padme was able to play the part of a Sith. To Padme, it was just another training, for another title and another role. Padme Amidala was a master at filling the role she was placed in, and this was no exception.

She screamed out of anger, swinging her blade before faking with her left and jabbing with the right side of her saber. It worked. She smiled at Vader, as she could feel the crunch of metal hit the floor beside him. Vader watched, dumbstruck by the twinkle behind her eyes with such a savage move.

“Oops,” Padme let out a small giggle. It surprised Vader, how automatically he could remember it. It was the same giggle from the gardens of Naboo, from the only time he felt truly happy. Padme sheathed her weapon and reached to the floor. “My bad, I got the wrong arm.”

As Padme lifted the twisted hunk of metal up, she blinked several times. New emotions were flooding in. She turned from Vader, holding the metal hand in hers. She almost wondered what it would be like to twist her fingers through his, that cold metal hand she remembered so well. She shook her head against the memories, tossing the hand to the ground. It landed and rolled with a clang across the floor.

“Padme…” Vader fell to his knees before the woman he loved. Through the makeup and the bandages, she was still Padme. Her face turned into a grimace, looking down at the groveling mess at her feet.

“Don’t ever call me that, _Vader_ ,” She seethed through gritted teeth. “I’m here for you. It ends here. With me.”

_Control your emotions, use them to your benefit._ Maul’s voice echoed in her head, reciting words of wisdom.

Vader’s eyebrows twisted together, he paused before speaking. He was already on his knees, figuring his best bet was asking for forgiveness, “You are all I ever wanted. Can you see that? I never meant to hurt you.”

Padme unsheathed one side of the red saber, angling it under his chin. If he could feel the heat, he didn’t act like it. All that armor probably protected him, she thought. “You took the only things that mattered to me. How could you, _monster_.”

She spit the word out with so much hatred, Vader turned his head to avoid seeing her reaction. This was too much. What was she talking about?

“How _could_ you?” She yelled, louder this time. The red saber twitched in her grasp as she started to shake. “How could you kill _our babies_?”

Vader watched her, the tears started leaking down her face, taking the red face makeup with it. It was Padme inside there, all along. He shook his head, longing to comfort her, “ _Padme_ , I never killed our child. Wait, are you saying? There are two? We have two children? Padme, where are they?”

Vader couldn’t contain his emotion and almost made a move upward, before being caught by the saber still at his throat. He looked to Padme, who was still shaking. The tears were streaming down her face now, in disbelief. No, she would _never_ tell him. She _could never_ tell him. The children were as good as dead, if she told him. If she knew they were alive, then she and Palpatine were the only ones. Why had Palpatine manipulated her like this? Did he know where they truly were? Padme paused, not sure where to go from here. Did she not need to get revenge anymore? What was her purpose here? Why was she trained at all?

“They are dead,” Padme sheathed her saber again, tucking it away inside her tunic. “Ordered dead, by your men.”

She reached down, to help him to his feet, before she realized what she was doing. It had felt so natural. 

“Padme…” He didn’t know what to say, what he _could_ say.

“It’s _Empress Amidala_ now, to you.”

Vader smiled under the mask, feeling happy for the first time in a long time. He reached into his belt and unsheathed his blaster before she could react. As he fired at her, he tossed the blaster to the side and rushed to catch Padme before she fell. It was sudden, but he knew Padme hadn’t noticed a thing.

They sat for a moment like that, with Vader cradling his cationic wife in his arms. Vader wiped the tears from her cheeks, taking the face-paint with it. She was as beautiful as he remembered. He pulled the bandages from around her head, letting her long brown hair fall out. He could almost feel it on his fingers, under the glove. What he would have given for just a lifetime with Padme. She was the closest to heaven he could ever hope to get.

He pulled his only remaining hand out of the glove, almost anxiously. He wanted to look around, and make sure no one was watching, but he didn’t dare take his eyes from her face. She looked so calm and peaceful now. He ran his fingers through her hair feeling the electricity through them, so tangible. It could have been like this, perfect. Vader let his mind wander before he finally looked up, back to where they were.

It wasn’t Naboo. It wasn’t years ago, on the day of their wedding. They were sitting in his empty castle, on Mustafar, arguably the least hospitable planet in the galaxy. Vader took a long breath before signaling to his droids. He picked up the unconscious Empress, still cradled in his arms.

“Ready my ship,” Vader called out as he heard the droids start to scuttle around, “It’s time to take the Empress back home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please leave reviews and let me know what I could have done better or what you liked! This is the last chapter for now, unless people want me to write more, so let me know. If anyone wants a playlist, I have been using this Dark Padme playlist on spotify here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/44UjKjn8fL8W7Hvk0HC1H2?si=IJ0VyFe7RCaMso6z-4OONg


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